


In the Gold of Day

by DreamingPagan, Sirenswhisper



Series: Journey's End [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Gates is Avery, Hennessey and Gates have been apart a long time, M/M, Smut, and Hennessey knows it, definitely NSFW, get your grade A smut here, part of the With the Gold Dawn's Breaking verse, they deserve to get to reconnect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingPagan/pseuds/DreamingPagan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirenswhisper/pseuds/Sirenswhisper
Summary: Gates and Hennessey are reunited and proceed to make use of the officers' quarters in the warship. Extra scene for With the Gold Dawn's Breaking.





	In the Gold of Day

It starts with the scruff covering Eirnin’s face when Hal finds him at last. Or - 

Alright. In truth, it probably starts with the moment that they look at each other across James’ cabin after it’s all over. It begins with Hal’s name on Eirnin’s lips, and Eirnin’s name spilling from Hal like sweet wine, and the two of them rushing forward, coming together like two waves crashing at sea, all hands and lips and shuddering sobs. Hal’s hands are on Eirnin’s face, forehead pressed to his lover’s, crying and caressing the taller man’s head with his thumbs -and then Eirnin’s hands come to rest on his shoulders, easing the vest from them as they stand there.

Hal reaches up to catch his wrists, holding them gently. He meets Eirnin’s eyes, and finds that he can’t quite breathe for the look in them. 

“It’s gonna be like that, huh?” Hal asks roughly, and Eirnin sighs. He closes his eyes again, denying Hal the sight of their unique shade - and he still can’t quite believe that he’s managed to remember it right, all these years.

“It has been three long, tiresome decades,” he answers, and praise God, those years haven’t changed his voice overmuch. “I - apologize -” 

He begins to step away - and Hal retains his gentle grip on his lover’s wrists, and runs his hands up Eirnin’s bare forearms to turn the grip into something more comforting. More inviting. 

“Thirty really fucking irritating years,” he agrees. “Think you’ve still got it in you if we go slow?” 

Eirnin opens his eyes, startled.

“I’d thought -” he starts, and then he stops again, gaping. Hal takes pity - he steps closer once again and lifts one hand to his lover’s chin. 

“Alright?” he asks, and then leans in for a kiss at the same moment as Eirnin, and somehow, their noses manage not to get in the way this time.

Somewhere during the kiss, Eirnin’s hands move. The newly calloused palms skirt over Hal’s sides - downward, down, until he’s gently cupping Hal’s hips, then squeezing slightly. Hal only just bites back the moan that results - Christ, he thinks nigh giddily, the man has always known how to find the sensitive spots, and all of him is sensitive given how long it’s been since the last time he indulged his urges. He pulls back, and finds his lover grinning.

“It’s a shame you’ve no hair left to pull,” Eirnin breathes, and Hal snorts.

“You should talk,” he says, but the words lack bite. He runs a hand over his lover’s shorn hair, what’s left of it, and then kisses him again, backing him slowly toward the bulkhead as he does. He makes a point of allowing Eirnin to sag against the wooden frame of the ship of his own accord - the man’s had more than enough rough handling in the past ten years. Speaking of which - 

“Tell me you’ve a berth somewhere,” Eirnin says. His voice sounds ragged, and Hal grimaces.

“Long time since ships came equipped with those, love,” he answers, and Eirnin glares.

“Don’t  _ lie _ to me about how long this ship’s been a-pirating, Henry.”

Oh. Um - yeah. Shit. They’re going to have to have a talk about that, aren’t they?

“Eirnin -” he starts, and Eirnin shakes his head. 

“No,” he says. “Not - not now. Damn my eyes - I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” He’s trembling, ever so slightly. His hands shake - he meets Hal’s gaze, and Hal feels something in him give. 

“Christ, Eirnin,” he murmurs. “How fucking long has it been?”

In answer, his lover reaches across the distance between them, wraps a hand around the back of Gates’ neck, and kisses him senseless. 

_ “ _ An _ age,” _ he says at last, his face still so close to Hal’s that he can feel his breath, and the shaking in his limbs. Hal holds him all the tighter - feels Eirnin’s hands grip at his back, and feels too the moment that his lover begins to cry. They cling to one another for a moment, and then the sobs ease, and the tension with them, and they are left, two middle-aged men heading toward old age, their hands linked, staring at one another in a kind of wonder.

“You survived,” Hal marvels, and then slowly, meeting Eirnin’s eyes to seek approval, he leans in, and kisses him again, and then allows his hands to travel down, tugging at his lover’s shirt. Eirnin shivers, his hands tightening on Hal’s sides. He’s well over sixty - Hal knows it for fact, and yet he can feel hard muscle and sinew, not an ounce of fat on his lover anywhere. The thought makes him angry - Eirnin should be relaxing into a well-earned retirement, grown pleasantly soft from sitting at too many desks and the more desirable for that softness. Hell, Hal’s managed it, and he hasn’t exactly been resting on his laurels, these past thirty years. They’ve worked his lover far harder than any man his age should have to endure, and Hal is fiercely glad he’s left the men responsible lying in their own blood. They’d deserved it, one and all. 

“Do you have any notion how hard I had to work to make it seem,” Eirnin asks, peppering Hal’s face with more kisses, and then his neck, working his way down, “as though the Royal Navy was full of bloody incompetents? Any idea -”  He stops, working at pulling Hal’s neckcloth off - “how many  _ lies _ I told - how many bargains I struck?” 

The neckcloth is off. 

Gates lets out a huff that’s half gratitude and half amusement. He spins Hennessey round and drags open the belt that has kept him from his prize, and Hennessey lets out a gasping-moan - all the proof that Hal needs that Eirnin is also experiencing the swirl of heat through his belly and racing up his spine. His fingers dig into Hal’s arms where he clutches at them.

“Hal.” It’s a pleading gasp made with wide open mouth and even wider eyes. It’s been so long - so very long, for both of them, and it’s an open question which one wants this more right now. 

“Soon, Eirnin,” he promises, the name on his lips still said like a prayer. “I’ll drive the memory of that place so far out of your head you’ll think you never left London.” 

Eirnin’s breath catches.

“I need it. I need you. Holding onto memories of you was the only way I got to sleep each night.” Hennessey turned his head and received a kiss on his eager lips. 

There are truly no beds on board, and James’ cabin is well and truly out of the question, Hal’s home while he’s on board the ship or not. And yet - 

Right now, what he wants is to lay Eirnin down on a featherbed, and begin showing him how good life can be once more. He wants the man he’s yearned for all these years to be comfortable, spread out beneath him the way he’s dreamt so many times. And the only way to have that -

Randall would kill him. The crew might, too, if they learn what he’s thinking of doing, and Eirnin - 

Well. When he’s done being sorely deprived and badly in need of care, he might be appalled, and Hal’s not having that. Even if the man in his arms right now is more like the one he left behind in Portsmouth all those years ago than he thinks, he’s had enough of having his wishes ignored. But where - ?

“Hal, if we don’t move this to an officers’ cabins we’re going to have an audience.” 

“Eirnin - this is a pirate ship, there aren’t any -”

Hal stops halfway through his sentence, because they are not aboard the Walrus - not at all, and by God, he’s a fucking idiot. Eirnin, to his credit, says nothing - he only raises one eyebrow at Hal, who groans, because that look has always sent him to his knees and made him stand to attention all in one go.

“What do you say to being carried, love?” he asks. His voice is rough - almost, he thinks, as rough as the breath that Eirnin sucks in at the notion.

“Please,” he answers, and that’s all it takes. Gates might regret this in the morning, or rather his back might, but goddamnit, for right now, he is going to ensure that Eirnin does not even do the work of walking about the ship. He allows his hands to lower, gets them under Eirnin’s rump, and lifts.

They make it almost all the way to the officers’ cabins before they attract any attention. The wolf whistle they get from Muldoon on the way is enough to bring a pink flush to Hal’s cheeks. Eirnin, on the other hand, locks his gaze on Muldoon and takes Gates’ earlobe into his mouth, and - oh. OH. Soft, warm, wet and the hint of teeth, and Gates knows exactly where his blood is going. It isn’t his face anymore. Eirnin smiles, and Gates can’t help but respond, his own smile half lecherous and half infused with the wave of fondness that sweeps over him suddenly.

“Tease,” he says, and then they are in one of the cabins, heading toward the table. Hal does his best to lay his lover down gently. The grain of the wood is rough - rougher than he’d like, but it’s a flat surface, and when he looks about - 

“Sit up for a moment,” he instructs. Eirnin does so, a confused frown on his face for a moment, before he spots what it is that Hal’s reaching for.

“I - recall taking a similar blanket from a Spanish officer years ago,” he admits, and he scoots off the table. It takes him a moment to reach Hal, and when he does - 

Hal’s heart, he thinks, might just break at the look of wonder on his Eirnin’s face. The blanket Hal’s just laid his hands on is soft - softer than anything Eirnin will have touched in ten years, and for a moment, Hal thinks the taller man might just cry.

“Can’t get you a berth but we’re not fucking on a hard table,” Hal says softly, and Eirnin looks back up at him. 

“I love you. I don’t care where we do it. Just please hurry the fuck up,” he says, and it’s all the cue Hal needs.

Eirnin, he learns, is still as sensitive as he has ever been. He moans as his back touches the blanket - his newly bare back, because in one motion, Hal has ripped off the rough cotton shirt from him and tossed it to the floor. Good for nothing but rags. The trousers follow - and Hal is not sorry one bit for how the ripping sound makes Eirnin start to laugh - truly laugh, the wonderful, full-bodied laugh that Hal has missed all these years. He’s still laughing as he helps Hal to undress as well - his hands shake a bit, but become more sure in their task as he goes, and Hal attempts not to shiver at the sensation of his lover’s hands on him at last.

Eirnin’s hands are calloused. His arms and shoulders have grown strong in the years he’s been locked away, and for one moment - just one - Hal wonders just how exactly he is going to measure up. 

“I know it’s not much to look at,” he starts. He can’t help but raise one hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at it self-consciously. “Used to have more hair and less me, but -”

“Hal,” Eirnin interrupts, and Hal stops. 

“Yeah?” 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

“Oh.” Hal gave a bashful grin. 

“You’re the most attractive man I’ve ever known. Now, Please, have your way with me you no good, wonderful saviour of a pirate.” 

Eirnin is leaning back. He’s wearing an absolutely filthy grin and nothing else, and - 

Hal is still covered in filth. His hands have shed blood this night. There is gunpowder on his face yet, and Eirnin’s expression could not say more clearly how he feels about that. Nor could his erect cock, and suddenly Hal finds that there is nothing more to be said. 

“Oh thank fuck,” he answers, and then climbs atop his lover. He pointedly does not worry about the table - only about the man beneath him, and the way that Eirnin arches his back as Hal closes his hand around his member. His hands coming up to clutch at firm muscles of Hal’s upper arms. Hal presses his face into Eirnin’s neck and leaves an open mouthed kiss there. 

“Oh God please,” Eirnin begs. Hal grins and draws back. 

“Please what?” he asks, and begins to move his hand. Eirnin swears.

“Fuck me,” he answers. “God, Hal, it’s been thirty fucking years -”

On another day, Hal is going to draw this out. He’s going to take the time to tell Eirnin in great detail just how he feels about his lover’s newly-earned muscles, and the softness he intends to restore to that belly. But for now he coats his fingers in lamp oil and presses them one at a time into Eirnin’s arse. His lover moans, and Gates begins to move the fingers - scissoring them slowly, pressing, feeling around for -

“Oh God,” Eirnin whispers. “Oh please, please - Hal,  _ please -” _

He’s hit the right spot. He grins - and then pulls back, and inserts the fingers again, and Eirnin swears.

_ “Henry,”  _ he groans and Hal chuckles. 

“Soon,  _ Princess _ .” 

Eirnin, Hal suddenly recalls, has been an admiral. His very best offended look, however, sets Hal laughing again, and as a sort of sop to his lover’s injured dignity, he puts his fingers back to good use. Even Eirnin cannot continue to glare with three fingers up his arse - especially not when those fingers are stroking the bundle of nerves inside him that causes him to shout in ecstasy. 

“Easy,” Hal says, but he’s grinning as he says it. He has no objection to the entire ship hearing his lover’s moans. “Easy, Princess, I’ll take good care of you.”

At any other time Eirnin would have been annoyed at him for that. But Hal has him at his mercy and they both know Eirnin loves it this way. 

Hal moves his fingers again. It’s been years but he still remembers this - the way that Eirnin likes to be touched. With his other hand, he ghosts circles with his fingertips over the inside of his lover’s thighs, and then trails them gently upward - just far enough to touch the base of Eirnin’s leaking cock.

Eirnin arches his back his mouth wide open and pleasure etched into every line on his face. It’s everything Hal wants and he captures that clever mouth with his own, only to feel Eirnin’s tongue push against his teeth, seeking entry. He allows it - and ohhh. Oh. He’s forgotten exactly what it is that Eirnin is capable of doing to him with his tongue. Gates moans in his turn, and it reverberates through both of them. At that same moment, Eirnin clenches around Hal’s fingers. It’s a reminder - a pointed one, and Hal gasps. He’s hard as a rock at the moment - and Eirnin damn well knows it. The cheeky grin he receives when he pulls back is proof enough - his lover knows precisely what he’s doing, and what he’s asking for, and Hal intends to give it to him.

“How hard -?” he starts to ask, panting a bit, and Eirnin raises his head.

“Don’t you _ dare  _ hold back.” 

“No trouble there,” Hal promises. He drops a tender kiss on Eirnin’s collarbone and pulls his last finger out. 

Eirnin lets out a long whine, his pupils blown out wide. Hal grins down, and slicks up his cock. 

“Relax for me, love,” he says, and waits until Eirnin blows out a long breath. His eyes meet Hal’s - and then Hal presses his cock in slowly, until he is fully seated, with Eirnin’s warmth all around him.

Eirnin cries out in pleasure. Hal moves backward experimentally, then thrusts forward again, and there he remains for a moment, waiting for both of them to get their breath back. 

“Doing alright?” Hal asks, and Eirnin nods, breathless. 

“Yes. Hal - please, move again, I need -”

Hal does not need further encouragement. He begins to move - and oh god, Eirnin feels so wonderfully tight, his blue eyes are wide, and his hands on Hal’s hips -

“Faster,” Eirnin pants. “Hal - oh  _ god -” _

He is going to shake apart. That’s all there is - they both are, and it is exactly what they both need. Hal speeds up his pace. There is a familiar catch to Eirnin’s breath - a familiar tenseness that Hal feels echoed in himself. They are both close - so close - 

He reaches down, and closes his hand once again around Eirnin’s cock. He pulls once, twice - and Eirnin lets out a ragged gasp, and then comes over Hal’s hand. His mouth moves in thanks to some nameless saint or maybe simply to Hal himself, and then he clenches down again, deliberately. Hal gasps, and thrusts again, and then follows his lover over the edge of pleasure.

He’s not certain how long it takes him to be aware of his surroundings again. Several minutes, evidently, if the slower rise and fall of Eirnin’s chest is any gauge. He turns to his lover, and meets the blue eyes he’s missed so much all these years.

“Princess?” Eirnin asks, one eyebrow raised, and Hal can’t help it - he begins to laugh.

“You started it,” he finally says. “You know how I feel about bloody Henry for a name.” 

Eirnin closes his eyes, and tucks his nose into Hal’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare call me that in front of other people. James would never let me live it down.” 

Hal kisses his nose fondly. 

“Never,” he promises. “Just our little secret.” 

Eirnin rolls his eyes fondly. “Oh my hero, your chivalry makes me crave another round.” 

Hal laughs, and pats Eirnin's bottom. “Let’s get rid of those muscle knots before we give you a strain.” 

Eirnin lets his head fall back with a happy noise low in his throat. “You spoil me. Don’t ever stop.” 


End file.
